Secrets in Disguise
by Chiyoku
Summary: Living as an an outlaw in a land in chaos is never easy, and to Jack it is no exception. Being the outlaw that he is, he's used to taking care of himself and rely on no one, but things changes when a group of thieves enters his life and takes him under their wings. What they don't know, however, is that Jack holds a secret, which none of them would ever have imagined.


The dark forest raced by as a teen ran between the trees in a hectic race away from his pursuers, well aware of just how much trouble he found himself in. His breath got caught in his throat for a second, as an arrow shot beside his ear not five centimeters away from hitting him, and planted itself deeply into a nearby tree with a cracking sound. He quickened his run, knowing that if they could get this close to actually hitting him, then they were too close by far.

The sound of thundering hoofs against the forest floor increased, and Jack cursed himself for having picked this route to his escape from the crime scene; he had been so certain that running through the most foul part of the forest would have slowed his pursuers down, and it had, at first, but in the end it had had the opposite effect too. He hadn't taken into consideration that the branches from trees and bushes would slow him down as well, as they kept getting stuck in his clothes, slowing him down even further. Of course, with his pursuers on horsebacks, it didn't make it any easier for them, but they were still getting too close for his likening. Why he absolutely had had to do it to those guys, out of all the people he could have done it to, he had no idea. He could have waited until he got to the nearest farm or village, and gotten away without being caught, but no, instead he had absolutely had to steal from _them._ It had been so obvious that they were bounty hunters, and yet he hadn't seen any of the signs, as all he had been focused on was the feast just waiting for him to get his grip on near their camp's fireplace. He knew he shouldn't have lingered in the nearby area after having stolen it, he should have learned that by now, but he had just been too hungry to get any further away than a few hundred meters, before he had to get something into his screaming stomach. Not that anyone should blame him; it had been days if not weeks since he last had had a prober meal leaving him on the edge of starvation.

If anyone had told him that he would be experiencing starvation and having to seek to thievery in order to survive, a few years ago, he would have laughed them directly into their faces, stating that they were out of their minds. But look at him now. Nothing more than a mere thief was what he had become. He had to admit however that it did give a rush of adrenalin and excitement, and was endearing to steal, but it also left a feel of guilt, knowing how hard some people in these lands worked to get their everyday meal to their children. But in order to survive, then a man has got to do, what a man has got to do, even if that means stealing.

Jack ducked under a branch and jumped over a brook, taking the opportunity to look over his shoulder and seeing just how close his pursuers were, before he continued his flee, making a left turn and -

'_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!'_

His heart skipped a beat, as a tree root made him fall, and stumble in a neck breaking speed all the way down to the foot of a high steep. He curled in on himself to protect himself and his Sheppard's hook from the fall, as he hit into branches and stones – gasps escaping him each time he hit something more painful than the other – gaining cuts and bruises on his long way down, well aware that this was going to hurt like hell when the fall would end. The wind was knocked out of him as he landed on his back on the forest floor, when he finally reached the bottom.

He gasped for air and stared up at the dark night sky while the whole world was spinning around him, feeling like everything was upside down, and his whole body was hurting from the many hits he had gained on the way down. He felt like he might be sick.

"Stop the thief!" A dark voice from the top of the steep yelled with anger to his underlings. "There's bound to be a prize on his head for thievery, if not then I'll have his hands as a trophy!"

The yell pulled Jack out of his temporarily daze. He stumbled to his feet and despite the world was continuous spinning, and he felt like the fall might have sprained his ankle, then he didn't give it much thought as he fought his way further into the forest, having to support to the passing trees, until the world would completely stop spinning around him. The pain in his ankle affected his run, making sure he had to rely on trees and his staff for support to get going.

He needed to get away, and he needed to do it quickly before they caught up to him again. There might not be a bounty on his head yet, as far as he knew anyway - maybe there was? - but he still couldn't let them capture him. He knew what they would do with him if they did. Bounty hunters were as good as outlaws, but because they got rid of criminals either by killing them or by actually bringing them to the authorities, the guards never did anything against what they did outside the law, of that simple reason that they made their job easier for them. It really was something which needed to be changed.

A horses' neigh sounded from the direction to which Jack was running, knowing it was the bounty hunters, because honestly, who else could it be? With a swift move, he raised his Sheppard's hook, caught a branch in the tree he was running towards and swung himself from the ground and up into the tree's branches, where he disappeared just as a horse with its rider was passing where he had been not seconds before.

He barely dared to breathe as the searching rider passed underneath, and sighed of relief as the sounds of the horse disappeared into the night.

If only he could stay unnoticed until he was certain that the bounty hunters were gone, then it would be perfect. Just imagining what would happen if they caught him send chills down his spine. He most certainly did not want to lose his hands.

He crawled further up the tree, trying to use his left foot as little as possible, as the pain from it now had gotten worse from overuse during the run and jump into the tree. He didn't get far up, before he settled down on a thick branch with a heavy sigh. He rested with his back against the trunk and carefully pulled his leg up to study his ankle; it was swollen and dark, and blood dripped from a deep cut he had gained just under his lateral malleolus. It was too dark to see anything else other than that, but he could definitely feel that there was something inside the cut that wasn't meant to be there.

Well this was just great.

He winched when pain shot through his foot, as he laid his hand above the cut to prevent the blood from escaping any further, at least until it would be morning so he could cleanse the wound before it would become too infected. If his ankle had become this bad, then he definitely did not want to see how the rest of him looked. Probably just as bad he'd bet.

His eyes made their way up towards the dark night sky, where the light from the moon was just able to be spotted through the thick layer of clouds. Somehow he was glad he couldn't see it, knowing how pathetic he must look at the moment, though he would still have appreciated the company. But it was there, behind the clouds, and that was what counted.

With a small smile he closed his eyes and tried to get some rest before he knew he would have to get going in the morning, praying that he would not be found by the hunters while he rested.

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The sun was just beginning to rise on the sky above the ancient forest. The entire place was quiet except from the few birds beginning to wake up and give their every day concert, while other wildlife began to awaken and stir, bringing life back into the chilly morning forest.

A black horse wandered through the forest with silent steps, with its cautious rider on its back. He was young and strong, tall and muscular, with dark brown hair, wonder filled blue eyes, and possessing a mustache and a short, but pointed goatee. He wore a black fur hat, black boots, a blue shirt, along red coat with black fur trim on his cuffs, and was well armed with several swords strapped both to his waist and back.

He had good reason to be cautious and on guard; the night before there had been a huge ruckus around here, and despite that it probably just had been some bears fighting, then that was no reason to relax. It was dangerous times after all, and with the Great General who had ran amok, the lands had become dangerous, especially during the nights outside the cities and villages, and it had caused many human lives during the last three years, so there were no telling what could be lurking in the woods. There could be everything from normal wildlife and magical beings to nightmares and fearlings, however, the lighter the world became around him, the lesser was the possibility of a nightmare attacking. Thank the moon for that.

"Come on, Petrov, there's nothing here," the rider said with a heavy accent which clearly told that he was not of this kingdom. He led his loyal steed away from the road and into the wilderness in search for something to hunt for breakfast, and to make sure that he did not come across anyone with the wrong intentions.

Nicholas St. North, which was the name of the rider, stopped his horse as they came to a steed which blocked their way any further. It was out of the question for them to continue up the steep, it was simply impossible. With a resigned look Nicholas looked at the surrounding area, and frowned as he noticed something on the ground. With an elegant move he dismounted Petrov and walked to the red mass covering a part of the grass at the foot of the steep. He let his fingers touch if, finding it to be a rust colored substance, almost completely dry. With a thoughtful expression he looked at the steep noticing the way the stones, twigs and branches had been pushed and broken, as if something had been falling down from the top, leaving a trail of blood from halfway down and further into the forest. Whatever it was, which had been unfortunate enough to fall down from the top of that place, was definitely hurt, and considering that the blood still was half liquid, possibly because of the humid weather, then it hadn't been long since this had happened.

A smile spread across the young man's lips as he began to follow the trail of blood with Petrov following him from behind. If he followed the trail then he was bound to stumble across the hurt animal. If the animal wasn't dead by itself, and then taken by other wildlife, then he had gotten an easy hunt – all he had to do then was to make an end to its suffering and then there would be breakfast.

It was possible it was a deer or a warthog, but the footprints were wrong. They were too broad to be so however they weren't clear enough to actually make out. It was definitely not a bear, since the broken twigs and branches would have been wider apart than they were if that was the case. It was something thin, obviously hurt on one leg, but what it was, he was unable to tell. He was no hunter, and had therefore minimal knowledge of what it was he followed, but now that he looked closer on the tracks, then it almost seemed like it had been fleeing from something.

Nicholas stopped up as the trail ended, but no animal lay by the last part of the trail, leaving him confused of what had happened to what he had been tracing this entire time. An animal couldn't just disappear out into the blue, could it? He looked rather frustrated around, until something wet hit him on his forehead. When he had dried it off and looked at the liquid, he realized it was blood. He looked up just as another drop fell down on his chin from the branches above him, meaning the animal had sought refuge in the tree by his side. What a strange place for it to do so, but none the less, then it meant that he now knew where it was, and seeing the blood still fell fresh, then it was still alive, or at least dead a few minutes ago.

He signaled for his horse to stay before he, with his dagger in his mouth, began to climb up the tree, excited to find his prey and find out just what was for dinner, however, what he found what not what he expected at all.

Dangling from each side of one of the upper branches, was to be spotted two skinny legs whereas one of them held a foot which was swollen, covered in blood, and had a very bad cut which looked to be infected. The legs were completely covered in bruises too, not leaving it hard to imagine how the rest of the body must look like.

A frustrated sigh escaped his lips, as he now knew it was no animal he had tracked down, but instead a human being. However, he couldn't leave before he knew whether the person was alright or no - being the caring person that he was - so he crawled further up the tree, until he was in the same height with the unknown person, whom he found sleeping. He almost chocked on his breath when he saw just how many bruises the person had; his chocolate brown hair was partly rust colored by blood, and bruises and wounds covered his face, neck and hands, making almost impossible to see the light dusting of freckles on his cheeks. His skinny body was covered dirty clothes; a blue tunic with a belt around his waist, worn brown pants, and from his shoulders hung a brown hooded rope and a messenger bag, all covering whichever bruises was underneath the clothing. His arms were crossed, keeping a Sheppard's hook in check so it wouldn't fall to the ground while asleep. He couldn't be much more than seventeen years old. A mere boy.

He felt bad for the boy, imagining just how much it must've hurt for him to fall from the steep, and then having to crawl all the way up here in order to feel safe in the night. It wasn't a wonder why he had done so, with nightmares lose in the nights, and predators in the forest, then a tree probably was one of the only places you would find yourself safe in.

Nicholas watched the youth, as he slept peacefully with a small frown on his face, completely unaware of the presence of another being.

A neigh sounded underneath them from Petrov, alerting Nicholas that someone was coming. The sound wakened the boy, and he sat up with a start, but the sudden movement caused pain to shoot through his body, as he winched and curled in on himself with a hurting expression. His injuries must be severe, for him to act like that, Nicholas decided as he worried watched the pained boy.

"You stay here," Nicholas said with a determined expression. His voice startled the youth, whose head snapped to stare at him with huge fearsome chocolate brown eyes. "I'm going to make sure it's safe for you to come down." He began to crawl down, leaving no room for any objections. The boy might be a stranger, but if there was one thing North didn't like to see it was children being scared and being hurt. That boy had been both, and it worried him. Whether he was a criminal or no, had gotten hurt by himself or by the hands of others, then children did not deserve to be in a state like this. The look in the boy's eyes when he had stared at him had been as if he had expected him to be one who would hurt him, and made it clear for Nicholas that someone must be hunting him.

Nicholas reached the ground, well aware of the pair of eyes which followed his every move from above, and looked up, their eyes locked for a second before the boy looked away, seeing something in the distance, which Nicholas couldn't. But before long the sound of hoofs against the forest floor met his ear, and he turned to see four men come riding his way, each with tired and frustrated expressions.

"Have you seen a teen, with brown hair, a brown rope and a messenger bag, running this way?" One of them asked aggressively to Nicholas, as they made hold before him.

He sensed the teen stiffening in the tree above him when the man's voice reached him, but else the boy was dead silent and didn't even move a muscle. Whatever it was between him and these men, he wouldn't let them get to the boy, but now it was absolutely clear for him that, yes the boy was indeed being hunted. "No, I have not seen anyone," he said with a smile, trying to be as nice towards these men as possible, "why are you looking for him, if I may?"

A growl appeared on their faces by the question. "That doesn't concern you, stranger, have you seen the boy or no?"

"That I cannot say I have, but even if I had, then that is most worry-some attitude to hold towards strangers if you ask them for help to search someone out, no?"

Two of the men exchanged glances at noticing Nicholas' accent, before one of them drew his sword and pointed it towards his neck. "Tell us why a man from the lands of the Spires is travelling in the Kingdom of Hibernis? What are you doing this far away from home, Cossack?"

"Why I answer question, when you do not answer mine?" Nicholas questioned lightly and stroked his black mustache, successfully leading the four men's attention away from why they had stopped up in the first place. "Is not fair, no?"

"You insolent Cossack," one spat in anger, "you are not welcome in our lands! Why don't you take your horse and go back to your king?"

Nicholas sighed. "Is freedom not that we are all allowed to travel from kingdom to kingdom as we find fit outside of times of war? I am just as welcome here as you."

"We are natives of these lands."

"Why of course you are," he nodded in a rather unimpressed way. "And that is why you understand that the laws of traveling, which the kingdoms made in truce, is for everyone who travels in the lands." He looked the man, who held his sword pointed to his neck, in the eyes. "But since your Great General ran amok three years ago, I have no way of returning to my own kingdom, since the boarders are closed; now this kingdom is just as much my home as it is yours until boarders opens, and does law not say that people who wish to move, are free to take to whatever kingdom which they see fit to serve as their new home, as long as they bow to the laws of the new chosen homeland?"

The men looked at the Cossack before them, unable to really say anything against is as they knew he was right, before the strongest-looking of them - no doubt their leader - growled and turned to his men. "Don't listen to him, he's distracting us from what we were doing; we have to find that cursed boy, have you forgotten? This insolent Cossack is slowing us down."

"Oh right," one said, as if he first now remembered what they were meant to do, which caused one of his allies to slap him in the back of the head.

"So, what are you men waiting for? Search the area for the boy! Give the signal once you find him!" Their leader spoke, looking at his men with determination and frustration in his voice and features. By his orders his small handful of men began to scatter around and away in their search for the boy, though their leader lingered, and stared at Nicholas with a sneer on his lips. "Nice try in trying to make use forget, Cossack, but I know you are not here by your own will; you've doubtlessly done something which caused you to have to escape from your land up North. There's a bounty on your head I'm sure, but be glad with the knowledge that we've let you stay free. For now. But next time our paths cross, you will not be this lucky."

Nicholas crossed his arms, but kept a smile on his face. "Oh, is that so? Then I will be looking forward to having a duel with you. You do know us men from the land of the Spires are famous for our swordsmanship, no?"

The bounty hunter nodded as a light appeared in his eyes of the thought of fighting a man with those abilities sprouted in his mind. With a quick and swift move he pulled his sword and took a swing against the Cossack, who in the blink of an eye had parried the hunter with a simply dagger. "I will be looking forward to that, but know this; I have no intention into losing to the likes of you."

"And I do not intend to lose either."

A grin – a horrific one at that – spread on the bounty hunter's lips, as he pulled back his sword into the shed, and without as much as a word, sat his horse in trot, and disappeared into the wilderness of the forest in his search for the boy, who had been just above their heads this whole time.

Long time went by before North finally dared to speak up. "They're gone," he called up into the tree, when he was certain that none of the men were close enough to be able to see and hear them. What the boy had done to anger a gang of bounty hunters was a question he was dying to figure out. Maybe the boy was a criminal after all? It wasn't uncommon to find youngsters who sought to criminality in order to survive, and not end up at the orphanages like those who got caught was.

However, there was no response from the teen, not even when Nicholas repeated what he had just said.

He shook his head – _kids these days_ – as he began to crawl up the tree once again, to make the boy come down. He needed to have his wounds checked, especially the one on his ankle which was infected. If he didn't get it treated probably, then he might have to lose his foot. A chill went down his spine as he thought of how horrible it would be for one so young, who had his whole life ahead of him. Sure, he was only a couple of years younger than he, but Nicholas knew that if he lost his foot, then it would mean so many things would be over for him, and be out of his grasp to do. Therefore he could at least help the teen with getting his wound cleansed proberbly.

But once he finally reached the high branch where he knew the boy was sitting, the youth was long gone.

* * *

**A/N ****It's different, I know, but I just had to make this, so I don't know whether it's good or no. Tell me what you think, yes?**


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